


we don't need a mirror for this

by SaraJaye



Category: Boy Meets World
Genre: F/M, Humor, Married Sex, Nostalgia, Writing on the Body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 11:49:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/912863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaraJaye/pseuds/SaraJaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their first Valentine's Day as a married couple, she lets someone from the past stop by to visit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we don't need a mirror for this

Their first Valentine's Day as husband and wife isn't as eventful as Cory would have liked, but for once he just goes with the flow. A romantic stroll in the snow-covered park, ice-skating (or rather, her skating while he follows her like a clumsy puppy), a romantic dinner in a nice restaurant. He gives her roses and a silver locket, she gives him cologne and a warm red sweater.

Back home, she blindfolds him and tells him to wait while she sets up another surprise in the bedroom. He's feeling kind of cozy and lazy, doesn't expect anything too big. Roses, silk sheets, soft music? Tried and true, but romantic nonetheless. But when she leads him in and lifts the blindfold, his jaw drops.

"Did I step into a time machine?" There are flowers all right, but no roses. Just wildflowers. Love beads and tie-dyed sheets (when did she find the time to make _those,_ he wonders, he can't think of a store that sells them), incense, candles, twangy guitar music blaring from the stereo. "Topanga, honey, what..."

"Remember last year? When you said sometimes you missed the old, strange Topanga?" Yes, he remembers. He remembers what an immature love-crazed idiot he'd been while his mother was about to have Josh. How he'd been the eternal optimist while Topanga kept focusing on the bad. Their reconciliation, how she'd-

_Oh._ Suddenly he's sure he knows what she's up to.

"I thought she could come back for a visit," she continues, and pulls out two tubes of lipstick. One bright red, one a rosy pink. A slow grin spreads across his face, and suddenly he's twelve years old again. Well, a _married_ twelve years old. Because obviously he's going to get some.

"You crazy weirdo," he purrs affectionately, wrapping his arm around her waist and kissing her. She melts into the embrace, unbuttoning his shirt and pushing it to the floor as he tugs off her sweater. He remembers her as a skinny kid, but in the last year or so she's filled out in more ways than one and he loves it. "These aren't just for our faces, are they?" he asks as they break from the kiss for air. He has a feeling but he likes to confirm things.

"Exactly," she whispers.

"Good." Her full curves and flawless skin just beg for decoration, and he knows she's thinking the same thing. Hopefully. He knows he's bulked up a little over the years but he's still on the string beany side. It almost bothers him until he feels Topanga's hands running over his biceps, moving to tug off his undershirt, and he remembers they're not naked yet.

It doesn't take them long to finish undressing, and once they have she picks up the rosy lipstick and motions for him to lie down on his stomach.

"Sun..." she begins as the lipstick makes contact with his skin, warm and smelling faintly of strawberries. "The only." A circle around his shoulderblades. "The one." A wavy path down his back, over his sides. "Donut in the sky. Space." Script, he tries to make out the letters by touch alone. _love. peace. hope._ "Big gaping place."

"Hey now, I work out every day." He's teasing, and she retaliates by drawing a little heart on his hip.

"I know." She goes back to his shoulder, drawing another little heart, then in the center of his back what feels like...another circle. No, a series of...aha, a flower. With a happy face in the center. "Without. Within." He feels the lipstick moving down, down... "Our skin." And then- _woah._ She's drawing a heart on his left butt cheek! _Cheeky!_ "The sun. The only. The one."

And then she's finished, stepping back to admire her artwork. He wishes she'd let him keep the mirror over the bed so he could see it, but she drags their full-length over and what he can see is good enough.

"You've made a mural of me, honey," he laughs. "Now it's your turn. By the time I'm done-"

"Don't tell me you're planning to write _Cory Matthews was here_ all over my butt!" She's teasing, but he gives her a mock-pout anyway.

"Well, if you're gonna ruin the surprise!" She lies down on her back, he picks up the red lipstick and gets to work. He's not the artist she is, obviously, so he settles for writing cheesy love messages and drawing little circles of flower petals around her navel and each of her nipples. And yes, he does write _Cory was here_ on her thigh...not that anyone but them will ever see it.

They stand together, two works of art, only to destroy that art moments later when they fall into each other's arms onto the bed, kissing and grabbing at each other.

The sheets are ruined, or at least it'll take forever to get those stains out.

Candle wax is dripping all over the dresser.

The stereo plays the CD over from the beginning at least twice.

It's gonna take a lot of scrubbing to get the lipstick off their bodies the next day.

Cory doesn't care.


End file.
